Upon this Holy Sword
by multiplicities
Summary: Micaiah. Zelgius. The seconds until happiness stops. A "what if" story.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Fire Emblem is not mine.

**A/N:** It seems fairly obvious that I've wreaked havoc with the timeline. I apologize for the inconsistency between canon and my story, but this was the best way I could make it work out. The conversation between Zelgius and Greil is taken directly from Path of Radiance. So, this is the longest one-shot I've ever written. Unbeta'd, too. Speaking of which, how does one go about searching for a beta?

* * *

"Gawain."

"My lord."

Zelgius hated this, seeing his master kneel to the man who might have been responsible for the deaths of his own family. They said that it was disease, but it was also whispered in the darkest parts of Daein that there was something unusual about the way all the others of his family had died. Except for Ashnard, now King Daein.

He knelt too, his rank the lowest in the room. Ashnard was standing, one hand resting on the throne that was said to have been created by the weapons of the vanquished foes he had defeated personally. They were the only ones there. The king of Daein was not pampered, certainly; he required servants to attend upon him quite seldom. "Your Majesty."

"Heh heh… and how is your student coming along, Gawain?" Ashnard's gaze raked over Zelgius' armor-clad body, his obviously toned musculature. He shifted uncomfortable in his subservient position.

"He's doing well, my lord," Gawain rumbled in front of him. A cautious, bland answer – what else could he say? Zelgius was aware that he still had far to go before reaching the Legendary Four Riders' level, or, if rumors were to be believed, that of King Ashnard. However, he had sparred before with Sir Tauroneo and believed that by now he might have surpassed him.

It was his goal to beat the best, though. Until Zelgius fought Gawain and won, he could not be satisfied with his own performance with sword or lance.

He would keep practicing.

"In that case, I have a mission for him. One I'm sure a knight you have trained will be capable of performing alone," Ashnard said. Zelgius dared to raise his head slightly, hopefully. Perhaps this would be his chance of distinguishing himself; he had never been sent on a mission without Gawain, much less by himself.

"What are the terms of the mission, my lord?" Even without looking at Gawain, Zelgius knew that his teacher's neck tendons were tense. He permitted himself to wonder about the outcome of a battle between Gawain and Ashnard then discarded the thought. Gawain had too much honor and pride to strike his liege.

"Your student – what was your name? – I want him to go to Talrega. Have you heard of Shiharam, boy?"

Zelgius shook his head, suspecting that this might be a rhetorical question. He silently objected to the boy, which was not only demeaning but also inaccurate. He might very well be older than Ashnard, in fact.

"He's the leader of those blasted traitors – those wyvern riders that ran here from Begnion, offering me their loyalty," Ashnard snorted contemptuously. "He's weak, just like all of those Begnion cowards."

"The mission, Your Majesty?"

"Don't you think I should test his loyalty?" Ashnard didn't wait for an answer, continuing on. "Go to his castle, he should provide you with whatever hospitality you need. Tell him that I order to organize laguz hunts in Talrega before I trust him with governing it. Those beasts can be vicious, tell him that."

"What if he refuses?" Zelgius questioned. He felt sickened by the choice: either hunt innocent laguz or face Ashnard's wrath.

"Then you know what to do." Ashnard chuckled, seemingly to himself. "Heh… only the strong should survive, don't you think, boy?"

"Your Majesty." Both Zelgius and Gawain bowed and exited. Ashnard's orders would be followed, no matter how horrible they seemed. That was the function of a knight: to obey. Ashnard was still laughing disturbingly as they left.

"What do you think of your orders, Zelgius?" Gawain asked him gruffly once they had gotten far enough from the throne room. Not that Ashnard put much store in spying; he preferred to just kill his traitors. Gawain had stopped called him boy after he'd gotten through basic training, knowing how much Zelgius disliked the term.

"Sir?"

Gawain huffed an exasperated sigh. "Will you be able to kill Shiharam if things turn out badly?"

"I will follow my orders, General Gawain," Zelgius answered steadily, unsure what Gawain really wanted. Surely his commander wouldn't test his loyalty, would he? He would obey until he left the Daein army, anyway. That time might be coming soon.

For a while, the two walked the halls without conversation. Urvan clanked against Gawain's back and Zelgius reached to caress the hilt of his own sword almost without thinking about it. Urvan was a beautiful weapon, one of a kind and made especially for Gawain. Perhaps one day, he would have a sword similar to it. For now though, he was only a poor knight under Gawain's command and tutelage. Then Zelgius had a thought: "Sir, do you have any knowledge of the forces at Talrega?"

"A bunch of civilians and some scattered dracoknights, I believe," Gawain answered, frowning deeply. "Shiharam himself is a fairly powerful wyvern lord, from what I've heard. There might be a few other soldiers stationed there, but most of them will be dracoknights – remnants of the Begnion Fizzart Platoon. Some of the king's men should be there too; you could recruit them to help you." He paused, glancing back at his best student. "I doubt you'll have to fight him, though."

Zelgius waited. The wrinkles around his mentor's eyes and mouth had deepened. He had most likely stayed too long already.

_But not until I've beaten him and the only victory I'll allow is while he's in his prime. Defeating Gawain won't be satisfying unless he's at his strongest. I need to fight him soon._

"You've met my wife, Elena," Gawain finally said. "She's with child again, and then there's Ike to consider as well. I know what it's like to be Shiharam, to have something too precious to lose."

Zelgius nodded. He didn't understand.

"Zelgius, what do you protect?"

* * *

So he went. He obeyed, as expected.

Thankfully, Talrega wasn't too far away. The land was filled with mountains, which were difficult to traverse in heavy armor. However, Zelgius was fast for a knight. He could have taken a horse, only he'd hate to subject any steed to bearing both himself in full armor and his luggage. Admittedly, he didn't carry much while traveling, but his weapons were already burden enough.

He walked on foot. Throughout Daein, there was evidence of several bandits, some of which were foolish enough to challenge him. They were no danger to him, but Zelgius dispatched any that thought he'd make a good target.

News traveled fast across bandit strongholds. Coming into the latter half of his journey, Zelgius encountered barely any bandits.

When he was in the vicinity of an inn and had the coin to pay for it, Zelgius slept in beds – clean or not, he truly did not want to know. Otherwise, he'd make do with a rudimentary shelter in the wilderness.

It was strange, to be alone after all that time spent with General Gawain and the other soldiers. He wasn't nervous, certainly, but it felt lonely sometimes. However, he did appreciate the silence and the landscape.

With resignation, Zelgius made his way up the stairs to Shiharam's dragon-guarded fortress. High and proud, it would be difficult for Ashnard to besiege the castle should Shiharam choose to rebel. He hoped that it would not come to that.

"Welcome, Gawain's student," Shiharam greeted, face completely dour. No doubt he already had an idea of why Zelgius had been sent to Talrega.

As it was, Zelgius did not appreciate being called Gawain's student. "My name is Zelgius, Commander Shiharam."

"Yes, of course. Is there a message from the king?" Shiharam asked formally, eyes wary and narrowed. This seemed like a man who had been happier in times past, but the worry lines in his face indicated that he was in the midst of an unpleasant situation.

"His Majesty has ordered you to start conducting laguz hunts."

"What? But-" a nearby dracoknight protested loudly, face reddening. He stepped forward belligerently, leading Zelgius to reach nearly involuntarily for the hilt of his sword. Shiharam waved the man back.

"Is there a reason why, if I may ask?" Shiharam looked distinctly weary. Zelgius was starting to believe that he would comply with the command, regardless of what reasons he stated.

"These laguz may pose a threat to the safety of the citizens in the region," he replied. Truthfully, he didn't believe his own words. However, if there was one thing he had learned, it was that rulers were always corrupt.

"From one scumbag to another…" This muttered comment came from the direction of a man that Zelgius could have sworn had been napping on the right side of Shiharam. He looked rather young but at the same time hardened. The effect might have come from the eye patch fixed over one eye.

"Haar…" Shiharam reprimanded, though his eyes held pride and trust as he gave a warning glance to the man who, Zelgius realized, must be his second-in-command.

"I've heard of you, Sir Haar," he offered politely. This man had already made a name for himself as Shiharam's favored student in Begnion; their respective situations were somewhat similar. He, too, would follow Gawain even if it led him to betray his king. "An honor."

"General Gawain's genius protégé?" Haar yawned. "You, too…"

"Your answer, Commander Shiharam?" Zelgius asked, trying not to get sidetracked.

"Tell your king that we will make preparations to exterminate the laguz."

The solemnity of the remark was ruined by the appearance of a tuft of red hair attached to a chubby body crawling through one of the doorways leading deeper inside the castle.

Haar strode over, picking the messy pile of swaddling baby up. The infant squealed and kicked, one rounded leg kicking the handle of Haar's large axe. Shiharam's eyes gentled, turning warm as he looked at the baby. Zelgius couldn't even tell if it was male or female. A nurse hurried in through the same door, looking hassled.

"My daughter, Jill," Shiharam introduced when he noticed Zelgius staring at his child.

Zelgius wandered streets of the village surrounding the castle in search of a place that would put him up for a night. He had been offered accommodations inside the castle itself for as long as he wished, but he'd turned it down.

Some of the dracoknights had looked at him without any friendliness even before he'd made Ashnard's message clear. He doubted that they'd try to attack the messenger, but it would have felt uncomfortable, sleeping in a possibly hostile castle.

There had to be an inn around somewhere.

So preoccupied in his search and wondering about Shiharam's daughter, Gawain's children, it was no wonder that Zelgius barely had time to react as a sword cleaved towards his head.

* * *

"Are you alright?" a gentle, female voice questioned him.

Zelgius blinked and found that he was lying on the ground with a figure leaning over him. He reached for his sword automatically, only it wasn't there.

For some reason, he couldn't open his left eye. He reached up to finger it and his hand came away covered with blood. Ah. He'd _thought_ the assailant had given him a gash on his forehead.

"Who are you? Where are my weapons?" he snapped at the woman quickly, starting to prop himself up. She didn't look dangerous and she'd surely had more than enough time to kill him, but he didn't want to take any chances.

Slender hands covered with black cloth pushed him back down firmly. "My name is Micaiah. I think the person who attacked you stole your weapons and supplies."

"Did you see where he went?" Zelgius demanded urgently. His side ached terribly, but the armor had protected him from any worse damage than a major bruise. He needed to get his equipment back if he wanted to travel back to the capital in one piece.

"I think he went through the alleyways – wait!" Micaiah tried to restrain him from rising, delicate hands no more obstruction than feathers. "You're hurt."

"I'll heal," Zelgius replied shortly. His vulnerary had been taken away as well. Someone who had gotten the element of surprise on him and stolen his things – he doubted that either Shiharam or Haar had ordered him attacked. Shiharam had too much – _his daughter_ – to lose, and Haar didn't seem the type of person to spring a surprise attack on a guest of his lord. This was most likely a common street rat.

"I can heal you, if you'll let me," Micaiah offered. Zelgius looked at her doubtfully. She didn't dress like a cleric, nor was she carrying a staff.

"How?"

He felt his eyes go wide as Micaiah's hands started to glow a warm silver light, hovering inches over his chest. It felt like he was being purified, all of the dirt being cleansed from inside him and washed away tenderly.

"_Sacrifice_," he breathed softly, in awe. He'd heard of it but never seen or heard of anyone with the ability. Micaiah smiled at him, face radiant. This was the first time he looked clearly at the girl. She was beautiful, with hair of molten silver and amber eyes.

When the light faded, he was unsurprised to find that his body was no longer in pain. More than that, he felt at peace for the first time in a long while.

Micaiah slumped, her posture betraying her exhaustion. He caught her, letting her head rest on his shoulder. Until she recovered, there was no honor in leaving the woman who had saved him to fetch his supplies. He'd wait.

The silver-haired girl lifted her head, smiling reassuringly at Zelgius. She rose by herself then offered him a hand. He placed his much larger, gloved hand over hers, putting barely any pressure on it. She looked so fragile.

"What's your name?"

"Zelgius, a soldier in Daein's army."

"Pleased to meet you. I'll take you to the thief," Micaiah offered, already starting down one alleyway. Zelgius strode after her, deciding to trust in the girl. For now.

Petrine, a soldier rising rapidly through the ranks of the Daein army, was beautiful, too, in a cruel way. However, if he turned his back to her, then he'd probably find a knife in there sooner or later.

Micaiah might be dangerous too. But there was something about her, a feeling that resonated with him… something about her felt familiar to him, as though they were connected. Perhaps it had to do with her healing him with Sacrifice.

"Hello, Jon. Have you seen a man carrying stolen weapons around here?" Micaiah inquired, bending down to look at a young, dirt-covered boy.

"No, but I'll ask Ma," he offered, running inside his house and fetching a worn-looking woman with a kerchief tied over her brow out.

"Micaiah! I'm glad to see you," she said; face brightening the moment she laid eyes on the silver-haired girl. "A thief? Yes, I believe he went that way," she pointed towards a less traversed path, by the looks of it.

They started down, Zelgius pausing to pick up one of the wooden sticks lying haphazardly across the streets. He was capable of fighting bare-handed, if it came to that, but he'd prefer having something sharp in his hands. Micaiah glanced at him then looked away.

"Wait, let me go first." It would most likely be dangerous to be in front and Micaiah did not look as if she could fight. Zelgius squeezed through the narrow opening, eyes adjusting to the darker way. He could hear Micaiah's quiet steps following him.

They kept going. Every time that they came to a place where the street branched off, it seemed that Micaiah could always ask for directions to the thief and find people willing to help her.

"Why is it…?" Zelgius trailed off, unsure how to finish the question.

"Why is it that they trust me?" Micaiah finished, eyes dancing. "I've stayed here for the past few years among them. I'm a fortuneteller. I suppose I'll have to leave soon, though," she added the last sentence in a whisper, the light in her face dimming. He did not think that he was meant to hear the last, though it raised several questions.

Zelgius' eyebrows rose. A fortuneteller was already a rare occupation, and it did not seem as if it could garner the amount of kindness that people directed towards Micaiah. Unless, of course, she had used Sacrifice to heal them in the absence of a member of the clergy. Considering how she was helping him, a complete stranger, that might be the more likely explanation.

"Tall, dark, and handsome strangers?" he asked skeptically.

"It came true, didn't it?" Micaiah teased, giving him a pointed look. Zelgius blinked, trying to keep himself from blushing.

Finally, they were in sight of a man furtively carrying a bundle of equipment. Zelgius recognized his own sword.

"Halt," he ordered. The thief looked back, startled and afraid. Then he dropped his load – Zelgius winced – and waved the stolen sword threateningly. From the way he was handling it, the man had little to no formal training. This would have been simple if Zelgius had been carrying a blade.

He waited patiently, knowing that the other could not afford to run away, the stick clutched loosely in his hand.

The thief came closer, still waving Zelgius' sword around. He took a swipe, a vicious grin on his face. Zelgius ducked under the blow, which came within inches of his neck.

As if from far away, Zelgius heard Micaiah chanting in an unknown language as he kept avoiding the attacks. "Zelgius, close your eyes!" He elected to trust her and narrowed them to slits. The light that wrote symbols in the air and struck with pinpoint accuracy upon the thief was enough distraction for Zelgius to lunge and hit his opponent in the stomach. The thief was knocked out.

Zelgius straightened, looking back at Micaiah. She was clutching an ivory tome; clearly, the girl was a light mage. Perhaps he should have let her take point.

"Thank you," he offered sincerely.

"You're welcome," she said. "Are those yours?"

"Yes," Zelgius replied, picking up his weapons and gear. His hand lingered on his money pouch; somehow, it seemed wrong, _disrespectful_, to offer Micaiah money for her help. Only, it wouldn't be honorable to simply leave. "Would you like to travel with me?" The words left his mouth before he could register thinking the thought. Upon further consideration, he found that he wouldn't mind having her for company.

Micaiah's head snapped up, amber eyes piercing into him.

"You are capable of taking care of yourself, and I would be grateful for the company. You said before that you'll need to leave this place soon. It would be easier for both of us to travel together as long as we travel on the same road. Where are you heading?"

She hesitated. "Away from here, actually… where are you going?"

_Away… perhaps she was running away from something?_ "Nevassa."

"I'd be happy to go with you, Zelgius."

* * *

If nothing else, he no longer felt alone.

Traveling back to Nevassa was also easier than it had been to travel to Talrega. Micaiah could certainly pull her weight when it came to defeating enemies, and she often insisted on using Sacrifice to heal Zelgius. He disliked seeing her tired, as she inevitably became, from using it, but the woman was determined to make herself useful.

Camping was also easier, and Micaiah showed better knowledge of the wild than he did, belying her delicate appearance.

She could even keep up with him, trudging on for the entire day with barely any breaks. While a knight in full armor was fairly slow, Zelgius knew that he was faster than most others and had high stamina as well. Micaiah never complained about the pace he set.

He also did his best to protect her, because something about the girl made him want to prove himself as her knight. Once they got to Nevassa, though, they'd be strangers again. He couldn't afford to be close to anyone.

Micaiah's knowledge and abilities rather puzzled him, actually. It was strange that someone who was obviously well-educated and had her skills could be found in the slums of a backwater town.

He decided not to question her about her past, since he himself disliked it. Everyone had things they wanted to hide.

It was fine if Micaiah wanted to keep her secrets.

The only thing they really disagreed on was her attitude towards other people, strangers that she didn't even know.

"Why help them?" Zelgius questioned one day, carrying her to an inn. She had just finished healing several villagers; she'd insisted on using her abilities when she'd seen them hurt.

One boy offered her flowers; by the looks of them, they'd wilt before the next morning. Other villagers expressed their thanks through words, none of which helped Micaiah at all.

"Because I want to," she said simply, happiness illuminating her face.

"Why sacrifice yourself to save some people who probably won't even remember your name tomorrow?" Zelgius asked, frustrated, shaking her gently.

"I… just want to help them. It doesn't matter if they can't do anything for me in return."

Zelgius couldn't understand it, but he tucked Micaiah in, making sure she was comfortable before heading off to his own rest.

The next day, the flowers _had_ wilted. Micaiah had placed one in her hair.

They headed off for Daein's capital in a comfortable silence.

In the same mood, they'd entered Nevassa. The city still looked the same as usual – dirty, crowded, and unkempt. Zelgius glanced back to evaluate Micaiah's reaction to the city he still called home. She was gazing around curiously, giving sympathetic looks to the poor lingering around.

Then she stiffened.

"What's wrong?"

She shuddered for breath, eyes opening slowly. "Don't go to the castle." Her fingers were going white in the places where she was gripping him.

"Are you sure?" Zelgius asked, thinking better of the asking the question almost immediately. Of _course_ she was sure. While they'd traveled, Micaiah had often shown foreknowledge – it had been particularly useful in dealing with ambushes. It was enough to make him believe in her success as a fortuneteller, but he still thought that she deserved something better. He settled for a less openly doubtful question: "What did you see?"

Micaiah shook her head, gasping for breath. When he looked down into her face, the fear wasn't for her own well-being but for him. "Just… don't go to the castle."

"All right."

Together, they made their way, Zelgius leading. If there really was something wrong, then he knew where to go for information and, possibly, help. Gawain's house.

As always when thinking of his teacher, Zelgius checked for his sword, blood racing through his body. He wanted to test himself against Gawain again.

A soldier Zelgius vaguely recognized passed the two. "Wait!" he called out sharply.

"…Sir," the soldier finally drawled, a pronounced note of insolence in his tone.

"What's going on?" Something was definitely wrong.

"Don't you know, _sir_? Your great General Gawain has been declared a traitor."

"_What_?"

He smirked. "Looks like he stole something valuable from the king. Then he killed his own wife and made a run for it," the soldier said with relish.

"He would never kill Elena!" Zelgius stated, drawing his blade. Fury poured through him, making him want to kill.

"Zelgius, wait!" Micaiah implored, grabbing onto his arm. "There's more, isn't there?" This was directed towards the soldier.

He spat on the ground. "There's a new order in Daein now. His Majesty's decided to promote the strongest soldiers instead of handing good positions to pampered nobles."

"The Four Riders?"

"Gone. They've been replaced by strong fighters now," the soldier smirked. "Just wait, I'm sure one of them will be coming after you once they find out you're here. You'll go down, just as weak as your beloved commander."

Zelgius lunged forward, blade extended and seeing nothing but red. The soldier's expression had changed to fear, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to spill blood.

"Zelgius?"

Except for that voice, he could have indulged in a bloodbath. He became aware of soft hands touching him, keeping him from losing control. Micaiah's eyes weren't condemning – not at all.

"What now?"

He decided to keep on going to Gawain's house. He would not believe the rumors until he confirmed it with his own eyes. He strode off, Micaiah running rapidly to keep him in sight. He had to make sure.

There was nothing but rubble left where Gawain's home had once stood. There was no sign of any member of the commander's family. Zelgius looked at it, urging himself to be calm. He had to find Gawain again. They still had a fight left. Gawain was strong – he couldn't possibly have died so easily. He'd search for him until he found his teacher, and then…

But first, there was still a small matter to attend to. "Micaiah, I won't be staying here. I don't know if Daein is safe anymore, but it's your choice. Is there anywhere else you would like to go?"

"I'll keep on traveling with you," Micaiah said firmly, nothing but trust in her eyes as she gazed at him. It frightened him, that trust. "That is, if you don't mind?"

"As you wish," Zelgius said, wanting to remove the doubt that had suddenly sprung up in her eyes.

"Let's go." Micaiah's hand slipped into his own as they left the suddenly altered city.

* * *

Thankfully, Micaiah could earn money through her fortune-telling and what the people healed through Sacrifice were grateful enough to give her. Sometimes Zelgius would take on guard jobs, but most of those were long-term and he preferred to have the freedom to do what he liked with his time.

Guard jobs were rarely demanding. Zelgius couldn't remember the last time he'd fought a worthwhile opponent.

The two of them skipped around Tellius, avoiding Daein and the laguz lands. Luckily, Begnion and Crimea were more than large enough for the two of them to travel through. Due to its order and size, they spent the most time in Begnion.

He wasn't really actively pursuing Gawain. It was enough to just wander around aimlessly and question those around him about his general's whereabouts.

Despite all that, Zelgius felt happy. Content, as well, to just travel through new lands with Micaiah.

_Was this what it meant to be free?_

If so, Zelgius could understand the attraction of being a wandering mercenary. The freedom of choice – to take what jobs he wanted and be required to bow to no one – was intoxicating.

Micaiah, however, was a problem.

The more they spent time together, the more Zelgius dreaded the day that they'd finally have to part.

There was no escaping it, though. He wasn't human, and the moment she realized that, she'd leave. Even though Micaiah was compassionate enough to care for him despite his heritage and faults, he did not want to see her grow old and die while he remained young.

He realized that he had come to trust Micaiah, to believe in her. One day, he woke up and couldn't imagine not seeing Micaiah across the campfire for the rest of his days. He decided, then and there, to tell her.

"There's something I need to tell you," Zelgius began, unbuckling his armor and baring his upper body to her. "Can you see the symbol on my back?"

He thought he heard Micaiah gasp.

"It's called a Brand. The people who wear these are born of both laguz and beorc, while belonging to neither. Abominations, destined to be alo- Micaiah?"

She was touching his back, smooth fingertips tracing his Brand.

"Micaiah? I'm not… really human." Surely she'd leave him, just as everyone else did. It would be better if he pushed her away first. He chose to ignore the selfishness of his thoughts.

"Zelgius, let me show you something," Micaiah said gently. She removed the covering over her hand. Funny how he'd never wondered why she always covered it up.

The stylized Brand on her hand became the focus of Zelgius' entire world. So this was why he had felt a connection with her from the time they'd met. The world seemed to spin around him.

"I'm one of the Branded, too," Micaiah told him unnecessarily. "Before, I thought that I'd always be alone. I'm so glad I met you, Zelgius."

"Stay with me," Zelgius asked – _pleaded_. She stroked his cheek with one of her hands.

He covered her hand with his own and moved in to kiss her.

That night, as they laid beneath the stars, it wasn't particularly comfortable. It wasn't even romantic, with rocks digging into Zelgius' back and Micaiah's weight making his arm numb. It was still everything that he had ever dreamed of.

* * *

"Incredible," Stefan called out, signaling defeat.

"You are an excellent sword fighter," Zelgius responded, respecting the other Branded's skill. He had rarely met someone so powerful.

To think that without Micaiah's decision to travel to Grann Desert, he would never have gotten to fight Stefan.

He found it difficult, but there was never any doubt of his victory now. Zelgius could say with complete certainty that he would be victorious again.

"Here," Micaiah said, offering both of them towels. She always looked worried when they sparred, but she would still watch.

"Thank you."

They had been staying with Stefan's community for the past few months. It was wonderful to find that other Brandeds existed, much less in such a society. The desert, however, was extremely hot. He supposed it discouraged others from bothering those in Stefan's community.

Both Zelgius and Micaiah had been accounted too beorc-influenced when they arrived. They had still been welcomed with open arms, and neither Zelgius' sword skills nor Micaiah's abilities were feared.

Quite a few of the Brandeds in the community were bitter over their fate, though, including Stefan. Zelgius was also starting to get tired of living in the same place, though he enjoyed fighting with the others with exceptional fighting skill.

He liked how Micaiah looked so much more peaceful since arriving there, which was why he had not yet broached the subject of leaving.

He didn't want to hurt her, and perhaps it would be better for Micaiah to stay there, in a place where she would be protected. He could understand the draw of living together with people just like him, only there was still so much in the world. So many strong fighters.

_Somewhere out there, Gawain was waiting._

Zelgius could never allow someone else to defeat, perhaps kill, his commander. He'd be the one to do that.

Micaiah would be happier in Grann Desert, most likely.

"Let's go."

"How did you know? Ah, your ability to see parts of the future?"

"Yes," Micaiah said, pack already slung over her shoulders.

"You could stay here," Zelgius suggested, his entire being rebelling at the thought. He quashed it, thinking determinedly that this was about what was best for Micaiah.

"I want to stay with you."

"You don't have to feel obligated to me."

"Don't worry; I'm being completely selfish this time. I will go anywhere, as long as you are by my side."

"Micaiah…"

"Both of you are being rude. Not even saying goodbye?" Stefan cut in, sounding amused rather than annoyed. They hadn't heard him approaching, though in his colorful outfit, it should have been ridiculously easy to spot him against the white sands of the desert at night.

"I was about to convince him to wait until morning to leave," Micaiah said dryly.

Stefan scoffed, sounding unconvinced.

"Was there something you wanted?" Zelgius asked politely.

"Some of my sources got back to me. There's no mention of a person named Gawain, but a person matching your description has a mercenary company up in Crimea somewhere. Rumor has it that it's pretty good, though he started it just a few years ago."

"What's his name?" Zelgius asked, feeling every nerve in his body snap to attention. Stefan had his full attention now.

"He goes by the name of Greil. Greil, commander of the Greil Mercenaries."

"There was no question of leaving the next day. They left that night.

* * *

He'd finally done it.

He'd found General Gawain again. He and Micaiah together had tracked him down.

It was exactly what he wanted, wasn't it?

So why did he feel so empty inside?

The way Gawain moved…

"That was my name once. But I threw it away. The only weapon I need… is right… here."

That had thrown him off. Gawain had rejected the sword Zelgius had offered him. Whether or not he'd be able to fight at full strength…

"Do you… want to die?"

He wanted to see Gawain at his peak, not like this.

"Think you can defeat me? The man who taught you how to fight?"

That was the entire point – he wanted to defeat his teacher. Only that.

"Heh. What a fool. Come on, boy. Come try me."

The words had been those of his teacher, but not the fighting. With one swift blow, Zelgius had defeated the man who taught him how to fight.

"Is that… all there is? No chance, no… resistance?"

Was this what he had spent all that time to find? His one and only goal? How pathetic. He _would not_ let it end like this.

"Micaiah! Can you bring him back to the way he was?" Zelgius questioned urgently. He knew that Gawain had been stronger than this. He needed a true fight.

"I can try."

She knelt down by Gawain's bleeding, broken body and used Sacrifice. Zelgius waited impatiently as the silver glow lasted longer than he'd ever seen it before.

It went on and on, but he couldn't see any improvement in Gawain. Then all of a sudden, Gawain opened his eyes again and started breathing. He got up with no difficulty, the wound miraculously gone, and flexed one of his hands, looking at it with amazement.

Micaiah had slumped to the ground, but she was always tired after healing someone. Zelgius angled their fight away from her, making sure that she couldn't get trampled.

Their weapons clashed again and again, and Zelgius felt exhilaration fill his veins. _This_ was the fight he had been waiting for.

With so much focus upon Gawain and the dance of their blades, it could have been an eternity before Zelgius noticed that Micaiah was lying too still.

He hesitated, looking back.

She wasn't moving.

"_Zelgius, what do you protect?_"


	2. Chapter 2

He'd stumbled away from the clearing, every inch of it etched into his eyelids for the rest of his life.

He hadn't killed Gawain and his old commander had let him go, for some reason. Perhaps he'd seen the look in Zelgius' eyes when he'd felt Micaiah's wrist and found nothing. Perhaps he'd remembered another day, another woman who had smiled as she saved the man she loved.

He couldn't care less about Gawain.

Micaiah was in his arms, so light and fragile, and this was the first time that he was completely aware of how delicate her body truly was, how easily it could be to harm her. Only of course, nothing could hurt her now.

As he rushed through the woods, away from that clearing where Micaiah had performed Sacrifice, his only thought was to run away from what had happened.

Micaiah_. _Micaiah_. _Micaiah.

Her name beat steadily in his ears, as Zelgius realized that his cheeks were wet.

_Micaiah._

Her body, so still, was starting to grow colder.

He might be going mad.

Zelgius screamed.

* * *

"Kill me."

A pause.

"Please."

The next time they had met, Zelgius had made just one request to his one-time teacher. It was strange, that even in the midst of his grief, he was still incapable of suicide.

He had laid Micaiah's body in an old abandoned chapel, where he hoped the animals wouldn't get to her body. It had seemed appropriate to place her in the sanctuary of the Goddess, where Ashera could watch over her.

"Don't be a fool, boy. Your death won't do anything for her."

"I have nothing left to live for," Zelgius whispered dryly. All his tears had left, and the only thing he could think of was being with Micaiah – seeing her again, even if the only place they could meet was death.

"Nothing?" Gawain's face first registered surprise, then something that Zelgius refused to acknowledge as pity. But it was true. He had no children, no subordinates to watch out for, no goal… there was nothing left. Nothing at all.

He'd destroyed the only person he truly cared for, after all.

And yet, even as Zelgius and Gawain fought for the last time, he couldn't find it in himself to truly regret Micaiah's use of Sacrifice in bringing his teacher's full power back.

It appeared that Zelgius wasn't capable of throwing a fight, either.

* * *

"Some country bumpkin wants to be the commander in _our_ forces?" The ever-so-lovely Senator Valtome laughed derisively.

"He has Sephiran's approval, I believe," Sigrun, commander of Empress Sanaki's holy guard, voiced softly. Zelgius pictured fighting her in his mind; it was only rarely that he encountered a pegasus knight, and he was interested in how her abilities would differ from that of a dracoknight.

"And what would _Sephiran_ know of warfare?"

"He has already proved his strength in combat –" Sigrun injected.

"Having the capacity to outfight brainless soldiers hardly proves that he is fit for command, Sigrun!" Valtome sniffed rudely.

"He has also proved himself as an able commander, if you had bothered to read the full report, Senator," Tanith, second-in-command of the holy guard, contested.

"Enough."

All the other babble in the room was silenced. Zelgius listened intently, certain that the Empress Sanaki was speaking. She seemed to be the only authority that could make the sycophantic babble of the senators stop.

"I trust Sephiran's judgment. We will put Zelgius on a trial basis to determine if he is capable of assuming the position of commander over Begnion's armies."

Some mutters of dissent ensued.

Sanaki continued serenely. "I realize that this is sudden; however, the recent… death of the last general has led me to believe that a person with knowledge of how the military works will be more suitable for the position."

Zelgius did seem to recall something about how the last general had been a courtier, a fop with nothing but a title who had led his men to their deaths…

As the herald ushered him in to pledge his loyalty to Sanaki, Zelgius felt only apathy while observing the virulent looks of the senators and the doubtful ones of the holy guards. After the usual knighting process, he was told to stand.

He did as commanded, only to find himself looking down into eyes the exact coloring and shape as Micaiah's.

* * *

Being Sephiran's puppet was not a horrible experience, at all.

After all, they were working towards the same goal.

Sephiran wanted to destroy the world of beorc and laguz for ignoring the goddess and warring whenever possible while Zelgius had no objection whatsoever to being destroyed.

Besides, being Begnion's highest-ranked general did have its perks. There had been an inordinate number of fighters who had started challenging him when word of his quick ascension had become known. Though none of them had been able to so much as scratch him, Zelgius was sure that someone strong enough would come.

Soon.

If Sephiran succeeded in embroiling Tellius in war, then there would be even more powerful enemies to fight. The laguz, especially, made Zelgius anticipate a great opponent, perhaps even one of their kings.

It was already working, with a so-called Maiden of Dawn in Daein fighting against the corrupt soldiers he had sent to subjugate the conquered nation and Sephiran's machinations causing unrest in the recently liberated Crimea.

Ike had won against Ashnard, naturally. He had fought and defeated, one by one, all of the Mad King's generals and even the dragons that had fought for Ashnard. Zelgius had watched Gawain's son grow stronger, though he could tell that the boy still wasn't strong enough to fight him equally.

It would be a pity to deprive him of his life when he still had so much potential.

It was only when he was not occupied with other tasks that he allowed himself to mourn for Micaiah. That, and when he saw the gold of Sanaki's eyes, or the clerics with their light magic, or the trust in his soldiers' eyes –

_Soon_, he promised himself, _soon he'd see her again._

* * *

He felt like laughing.

All this time, all that had happened, and everything had come full circle again.

He faced Ike in the Tower of Guidance.

"No draw. No escape. One wins. One loses. We shall end this. One of us will live… and one of us will die."

_And if there was such a thing as justice, it would be him._

"I'm ready. Good-bye, General Zelgius."

He had fought Gawain and lost Micaiah; now he would fight Gawain's son and be with her again.

Ike moved in towards him, eyes intent but no hatred burning in them. Ragnell flashed, and in the fraction of a second before the sword buried itself in his side, Zelgius knew that he couldn't avoid it.

He'd never suffered a wound so horrible and so obviously fatal, never felt this weakness in his arm as he let Alondite clatter to the ground by his side.

Zelgius _smiled_.

"Thank you…" For sending him to the one he loved.

He could see Micaiah's face again… but why was she crying?

"…_caiah, don't cry…"_

_

* * *

_**A/N: **I kept getting these Romeo and Juliet vibes while writing this. Personally, I'd have preferred to leave it at the end of the last chapter and I really don't think this was as well written, but... blame the reviewers who kept asking for an epilogue. *scowl*

So, yeah. This is it. Whether or not he's revived, a la Shinon in Path of Radiance, feel free to imagine the "real ending" for yourself.


End file.
